Tuesday, December 30, 2014

Childhood memories swirl around me, birthday parties, summer campingFamily holidays spent with good hearts, we weren't rich, but we weren't lackingNo one was left wanting, or so it seemed to meBut sometimes wounds hide too deep for anyone to see

Detail isn't important, truth be told, I didn't want to remember,I spent minutes, days, and years perfecting my recipe to forgetCold with fear, denial, disbelief and without hopeI realized that as a human, I could not copeI could pretend, though, and as long as I did, maybe no one would get hurtAnd they would never know, couldn't ever knowThat they were touching dirt

I made so many choices knowing before I chose that I'd choose wrongBut I didn't care, I couldn't care, It was too damn hard to stand up strongBut those things came back to haunt me, and against a wall, I embraced the painI turned myself around, and swore I'd never go back again

Now detail isn't important, truth be told, I really can't rememberI spend minutes, days, and years willing myself to never forgetWarmed with courage, acceptance and belief, I found some hope,I realize I am human, and I'm working very hard to cope,I can't pretend, though, because as long as I do it's only me whose getting hurtAnd I always know, can't ever not know,That the world outside avoids me, afraid that they might touch the dirt

I find myself wondering as I take life minute by minute, day by dayWill this taint, the feeling of uncleanliness ever really go away?I see the looks on faces and I feel those whispered wordsPeople think they're talking quietly, but I assure you that I heard

You say the details aren't important, truth be told, you always rememberYou've spent minutes, days and years making sure no one forgetsIs it your fears, denial and disbelief that try to steal my meager hope?Please remember I am human, and still struggling to copeI'm not asking you to pretend, though, because it was you that I hurtBecause of all I know, and all you know,I will just ask for some forgiveness, help me wash away the dirt

It's a rare person who really sees me, underneath my dirt and grimeWho treats me like I have value, and that I'm worth their timeIt's a beautiful, heady feeling to be met with no expectationsI'm grateful I can share some time without any explanations

She says details aren't important , truth be told she doesn't mindShe's spent minutes, days and years looking for what she could not findShe has enough courage, acceptance and belief to help maintain my hopeShe knows that I am human, and I have the tools to copeThere is no more pretending, but there's always the risk for hurtBut I will know, and she will knowI am worth more than the dirt

This blog post is mainly for me, since I am the only one who comes here, anyhow. I wrote this poem after waking up from a dream I was having. I wish I could remember the melody that was supposed to go with it, but I don't. I don't have enough of a musical gift to write actual tunes, anyhow. I wrote it from a male perspective, because in my dream, it was a young man who was struggling with the issue that he was ostracized from society, and even friends and family due to the poor choices he had made. I wasn't him in the dream, I was more of an observer. He met a girl in this dream, just as I was waking up. A beautiful girl, who was not hesitant to touch him at all. On further reflection now, though, I am kind of wondering if this wasn't supposed to end differently. Maybe he died, and she was an angel? They were both in white, the whole typical, schmaltzy ending with the breeze blowing the hair and the loose white clothing. Hmm. Now I might have to write a depressing alternate ending to this.

About Me

I think, at this point, this blog defies any description. I ramble on about various things, but since I now have my little boy safe and at home it's a safe bet I am going to be blogging about him a whole lot...
And to think this blog started out as a single girl's search for a good man...
hahahahaha!